Wolfenstein: The Old Blood Chapters Novels & Stories

The bond in my chest pulsed weakly in reply. Then from outside—a long, low howl broke through the rain and fog. Not Nightbane. Not ordinary wolves. They were back. And that night, my first blood wasn’t spilled for war… but to save the one woman even the Elders feared. ***

"Then? Tell me what happened next, hurry!" "Okay, so after that, I found this book about vaewolves, I'm assuming that you already know what that is, then I found out about the blood moon where it'll come out. I've waited for it, just to find out that it's actually me, I'm a vaewolf, the dangerous and monstrous creature was me" I explained to her that left her dumbfounded. She wasn't able to speak for a minute, still stunned by my revelations and she seems to not know how to speak herself up.

The front yard was captivating a neatly trimmed garden and various flowers blooming under the afternoon sun. "Welcome to the Rosado Castle, the heart of DarkMoon pack. The guest rooms are ready for you Mr. Cayden and Tennin Denwald. Enjoy your stay here while finding the true royal Blood Wolf this is truly a shocking news for me. I'd never thought there was still future for the Blood Wolf's bloodline. If it weren't for fate I wouldn't have lost hope of my packs future." Illiana said. There were tears threateaning to flow out and Eris comforted his mother.

I suddenly felt a big hammer pounding my head, causing me to hold on to the bed frame and close my eyes because of dizziness. A sudden scene crossed my mind. Inside, the cell with a red werewolf facing Alarick and Convel. “A sanguis.” Both Alarick and Convel said as they were staring at a two-tailed red werewolf. In return, the red werewolf gave them a low growl. Instead of being scared, Alarick and Convel looked fascinated by the sight. The bloody color of the werewolf is shining as well as the two tails it keeps on swaying.

Every step sank into damp, rotting earth that smelled of decay and old blood. My wolf paced frantically inside me, her warnings growing louder. She’s there. Closer. Waiting. I pushed on, vines brushing my skin like warm, living flesh. I had to find her—the memory-tampering witch. Ancient werewolf histories spoke of forbidden chapels where dark witches hid. I remembered the stories. I had no choice. The trees finally parted. An old, crumbling chapel rose ahead like a broken tombstone. Stone walls were cracked and blackened. Moonlight poured through shattered stained-glass windows, casting twisted images of howling wolves in agony across the ground. Their painted eyes seemed to follow me.

Blood covered the ground. I spotted Elder Thorne immediately. His massive body lay torn apart near the main building. Rage exploded through me. Hot, wild and completely out of control. These fuckers had killed one of my elders. I shifted as I jumped off my bike. My wolf form hit the ground running, immediately noting that the vampires weren't like the usual but blood addicts. A blood addict turned toward me, its face twisted with hunger. I didn't give it a chance to attack. My claws ripped through its throat. Black blood sprayed across the ground.

I said, and my voice didn’t shake nearly as much as I expected it to, “then I’m done running.” I pressed the blade into my palm. The first drop of blood hit the bowl. Every candle in the room exploded into silver flame at once, and the floor trembled beneath my knees like the castle itself had exhaled. ⸻ Far away, in a hall still stained with my blood from another kind of ceremony, Alpha Lucien Blackthorn clutched his chest and went to his knees without knowing why. His wolf tore through him with a roar that had no source, no enemy, nothing to fight but the impossible thought crashing through him all at once.

*Chapter 66: The Counterstrike* *Word count*: ∼1715 words. Blackthorn didn’t mourn. Not out loud. Not where the pack could see. They buried the three wolves who’d died in the collapse before dawn, said the old words, and went back to work. Grief had a place in Blackthorn, but not when the enemy was still breathing. Elena stood at the edge of the graves, snow on her shoulders, Kael’s hand steady at the small of her back.

That kind of stillness only came after blood. Then I smelled it. Not just wolf blood. Vampire blood. Old. Powerful. My jaw clenched. “Shit.” I landed hard in the yard of the pack house—and chaos greeted me like a damn funeral. Wolves were scattered, some lying lifeless in the dirt, others groaning as they were helped up by their kin. Blood stained the grass in ugly smears. Death hung in the air like fog. And right at the centre, Ralph stood speaking with Aaron. My brows furrowed. Aaron came too?

Without a second thought, the hungry, evil, red-eyed werewolves were met with William’s bravery. On his face, there was no sign of dread. Anger and loathing may be seen in his golden eyes. He was planning his vengeance. He didn’t care if he died right now as long as he could let out the rage that was building up inside him.